


Red.

by Relvich



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Blood, Ficlet, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, I cried while writing this, I'm Sorry, I'm sorry for this, One Shot, Prompt Fic, Sectumsempra, The drarry chat, the color red
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 17:20:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8587093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Relvich/pseuds/Relvich
Summary: Red. All the things Draco Malfoy shouldn't be.





	

Red.

Red like Gryffindor. Red like roses, red like passion.

Red.

Red like the brashness of action, red like the Weasleys, red like fire and flame and warmth.

Red. All the things Draco Malfoy shouldn’t be. No, Draco was more attuned to the blues and silvers of subtlety, of the chill, of the sky, of the ocean. He was more like the winter: strong but not immovable, offensive but beautiful, stunningly _alive_ under the mask of neutrality, of indifference.

Now, however, he was red.

 _Red,_ red like blood, red like murder.

“I didn’t want it to end this way.”

Now, he was red with a curse with the label ‘for enemies’, now he was red with ‘I couldn’t get him to the hospital wing in time’, _now he was red with his own taken life._

His eyes were the only reflection of his rightful blues and silvers that were left. But even those were glassy, tainted by a milky sheen. They were not affected by the red, but they might as well have been, now that they were gone like the leaves just before autumn- still there, but dead dead _dead._

His killer sat beside his deathbed. He was not red in the way that he had forced the other boy to become, he was just naturally that way. He had always been red with responsibility, anger, war.

Now, he had obtained some of the Malfoy’s darkest grey, the color of unforgivable sin, of guilt.

_“I didn’t want it to end this way.”_

The murderer sobbed openly. The nurse looked on in disgust, disgust that this child may weep even though he had deprived a person of ever doing the same again. There were Aurors behind him, and they too were wary of the perpetrator of the most horrendous crime.

You are free to go, they said. You did not know what the spell would do, they added.

They were really saying _we hate this. But we need you. We hate you._

The boy knew this.

He did not comment. The Aurors left.

He wanted to scream after them. _Slap me in chains! Lock me away! Have me kissed by the darkest despair; take my soul away, I’ve already tainted it beyond repair!_

But he knows his place, so he does not. He _knows_ he has a job to do.

~~(Once the war is over, nothing will hold him back. He will follow this boy who he turned this horrid shade of red. He will turn the red of blood himself, he will do his penance.)~~

So he just turns back to the red painted boy.

“I’m sorry.”

There was no response but the slow darkening of that most terrible, horrible, awful shade.

_Red._

**Author's Note:**

> I received a prompt from my friend (@memesanddrarry on Tumblr) that I couldn't refuse. Draco doesn't survive the sectumsempra. An idea blossomed from it, and so I leave you with this.  
> Hope you enjoyed, Rel out.


End file.
